


My Beloved Monster

by rsconne



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa Halloween Week, F/F, Fluff, Halloween "creatures" liberally interpreted, Not scary, SO MUCH FLUFF, Srsly I almost choked on the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 13:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsconne/pseuds/rsconne
Summary: Day 2: Clexa Halloween Week.  Did Lexa just bring home a little demon?  Clarke to the rescue.  (*Note: *very* loose interpretation of Halloween creatures theme)





	My Beloved Monster

**Author's Note:**

> *title from The Eels

“Clarke?  It’s Lexa, from the shelter.  You’ve got to help me, I think he’s possessed!”  Clarke held the phone away from her ear and raised her eyebrows at the panic and desperation apparent in the other woman’s voice. 

 “Whoa, slow down, Lexa.  Where are you?”

 “My apartment.  I’ll text you the address.  Please, Clarke—I hate to bother you, but I don’t know what else to do.  He’s turned into a demon!”

 “It’s not a problem,” Clarke assured her.  “Stay calm, and I’ll be there in fifteen.”  She disconnected the call.  So much for a night in with Chinese delivery and Netflix.  Still, she wasn’t complaining.  She’d felt oddly bereft at watching Lexa walk out of the shelter that afternoon, knowing it was unlikely that their paths would cross again.  It was an impulsive whim that led her to pursue Lexa outside to the parking lot and pass along her number on a post-it note.  “In case you have any problems,” she’d said nonchalantly, playing off the slight burst of color on her cheeks.  Truthfully, Clarke had doubted she’d hear from her again, so the unexpected call set her alight with a tingle of apprehension and anticipation.  She glanced down at her attire and grimaced.  Her black leggings and oversized, paint-spattered sweatshirt were presentable enough for a relaxed evening in with friends, but didn’t exactly scream alluring.  Still, it would have to do; given Lexa’s agitated state on the phone, she didn’t have time to dawdle.  She paused at the hall mirror to tidy her hair in a loose bun and apply a quick layer of lip gloss before heading out the door.

 Clarke made it to Lexa’s apartment building in twelve minutes flat.  She climbed the stairs and quickly found the right door.  Several loud thumps and muffled curses echoed from behind it, and Clarke braced herself for whatever she might find.  She knocked.

 “It’s open,” Lexa called out, and Clarke swung the door open.  Her jaw slowly dropped.  Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been…this.  The room appeared to have been torn apart and reassembled by a team of blind hedgehogs.  Books spilled from the lower shelves of the bookcases along one wall, their pages splayed open.  Several potted plants that had apparently rested in the windowsill on the far wall now lay in topsy-turvy, forlorn heaps on the floor.  One of them had been dragged out of its pot and halfway across the room, leaving a trail of potting soil in its wake on the carpet.  A framed print on the wall beside the interior hallway hung drunkenly askew.  A small selection of magazines that had probably once laid tastefully on the coffee table had been reduced to glossy ribbons.  That was nothing, however, compared to the shredded, fluffy debris of what looked to be an entire package of toilet paper that littered the whole apartment.  None of the mayhem really registered for Clarke, though, because all of her attention was drawn to Lexa’s ass.  Lexa’s perfectly round ass in a pair of black, form-fitting, yoga pants, thrust proudly in the air as she crawled on her hands and knees to peer under the sofa.   

 “For the love of God, close the door!” Lexa shouted hoarsely, “I don’t know where he _is_!”

 Clarke obeyed hastily and took in the chaos.

  _What. The. Hell?_

  *****six weeks earlier*****

 Lexa entered the Arkadia Animal Shelter and walked up to the desk clerk.  “Hi, I’m here to pick up a student from the Polis Elementary field trip?” 

 “I think they’re still in the adoption ward.  I’ll walk you back.”  Lexa followed the staffer to the rear of the facility and into a large, open room stocked with cages and cat trees.  The room was crowded with a throng of schoolchildren and a handful of adults, some of them wearing medical scrubs.  And cats: several dozen of them in all sizes and colors, lolling on beds, chasing toys and each other, and frolicking with the kids. 

 “Lexa!” A skinny, sandy-haired boy of about eight barreled into Lexa’s midsection causing her to exhale with an _oof_.  “I didn’t know you were coming!  Where’s mom?”

 Lexa gave him a quick hug in reply.  “Hey, Aden.  Your mom got held up at work, she asked me to come pick you up.”

 “Ok,” Aden said absently, his attention clearly elsewhere.  “Hey, Lexa, c’mere, I wanna show you something,” he urged.  He tugged her by the sleeve to a secluded area on the far side of the room.  Lexa followed with good humor, carefully dodging cats and children, until they reached Aden’s destination.  He released her sleeve and got down on his hands and knees beside a cage piled with soft blankets.  He gently patted aside the blankets to reveal a tiny, solid black kitten.  “Look, Lexa,” he whispered, looking back over his shoulder at her in awe.  “He’s so _little_.”  The kitten seemed to take offense at that characterization; he jutted his chin at them and released a defiant _mew_. 

 Lexa squatted next to Aden to get a better view.  A silly, soft smile spread across her face as the kitten wobbled to his feet and struggled through the sea of blankets toward them. 

 “I see you found our baby,” said an amused voice behind them.  Lexa turned her head and her dopey grin froze on her lips.  _Wow_.  The voice belonged to a woman about Lexa’s age, in her late twenties.  She wore her blonde hair back in a ponytail.  Her bright blue eyes sparked with life and the corner of her mouth lifted in an easy smile.  Her boxy, light blue scrubs failed to obscure the fullness of her breasts and the curve of her hips.  (Not that Lexa was looking.  She wasn’t.)  The faint smudge of a cleft in the stranger’s chin fascinated Lexa.  She realized she was staring and forced herself to drag her eyes away. 

 “Baby?”  Lexa said, finally finding her voice.

 “Yeah, he’s the smallest kitten we have right now, he’s only about six weeks.  Someone brought him and his littermate in after his mother was killed by a car.”  A shadow briefly crossed her face.  “Unfortunately, the littermate was too anemic—fleas.  She didn’t make it.  We weren’t sure he would, either, but he’s a tough little guy.”  She knelt down beside Lexa and reached into the cage to scoop up the kitten.  A clean, vanilla scent wafted off her body and Lexa unconsciously breathed deeper.  “His name is Zuul.  Want to hold him?” she offered Aden kindly.

 The boy nodded vigorously.  The blonde woman folded the tiny cat into his hands.  A brilliant smile split his face.  Lexa’s insides turned to mush as she watched him cuddle the kitten.  She fished out her phone and snapped a photo.  She blushed and nearly dropped it when she realized the attractive vet was eyeing her with interest.  They got to their feet. 

 “Your son’s adorable,” the woman said quietly.

 Lexa’s eyes widened and she shook her head.  “Oh!  No!” she stuttered.  “He’s not mine.”  The vet frowned in confusion and Lexa quickly explained, “Nephew.  He’s my nephew, Aden.  I’m Lexa,” she added, sticking out her hand. 

 The woman’s smile seemed to grow impossibly brighter.  “Clarke.  I’m the head vet tech.”  Lexa would have sworn that Clarke held her hand just a beat longer than politeness dictated, but she told herself that she’d just imagined it.  “He seems pretty taken with Zuul,” Clarke observed.

 “I can guarantee that Anya—my sister—is going to hear all about him,” Lexa promised wryly.  “But what’s with Zuul?” she asked with a puzzled frown. 

 Clarke laughed.  “It’ll be Halloween by the time he’s ready for adoption, and one of our intake techs was on a Ghostbusters kick.  It could’ve been worse, I don’t know if we’ll ever manage to find a home for Slimer.  Hey, do you want to hold him?”

 Lexa tried to demur.  “Oh, that’s all right, cats don’t really—” but Clarke had already stooped down to borrow Zuul from Aden.  She tutted at Lexa and indicated for her to hold her hands out.  “Just for a second.  Being handled by humans helps socialize him.”  Lexa swallowed her protest and accepted the tiny ball of fluff, cradling him with both hands against her body.  His little ribs were so fragile that she feared the slightest wrong movement might crush him.  He wriggled impatiently and turned himself around in her hands to face her.  He looked her straight in the eye, carefully lifted up one paw and tagged her with it, and mewed insistently to her. 

 Clarke giggled.  “He likes you.”  

 “He does, doesn’t he,” Lexa murmured.  She was too mesmerized by the kitten to notice Clarke’s gaze sweeping over her profile, as if committing to memory the chiseled angle of her jaw, the plump fullness of her lips, and the wet, green shimmer of amazement in her eyes. 

 “I have to get back to work,” Clarke said regretfully, “but you’re welcome to come back by and visit with him whenever you like—or any of the others, for that matter.  It’s good for the cats, and kids love it, too,” she said with a grin at Aden. 

 “Yeah, we might do that,” Lexa said, shifting her focus back to Clarke.  “It was really good to meet you,” she said sincerely. 

 “Likewise,” Clarke smiled, and this time Lexa was sure she hadn’t mistaken the rosy flush on Clarke’s cheeks. 

 In the subsequent weeks, Lexa returned to the shelter at least once or twice a week.  Sometimes she brought Aden as an afterschool treat and basked in his delight as he petted and teased the animals.  Often, though, she came on her own, ostensibly to spend a few moments playing with Zuul.  She wasn’t normally so drawn to animals, but something about the orphaned kitten’s sad story and the indomitable strength of will that he radiated resonated with her.  It hadn’t slipped her attention that no matter how busy she was, Clarke always made time—even if it was just a few minutes—to stop in and chat.  Zuul brought them together: they watched as his gangly legs grew sturdier and his hazy blue eyes changed into a distinctive green.  But Lexa found herself looking forward just as much to her comfortable interludes with Clarke in which they talked about everything and nothing. 

 Aden pleaded and cajoled Anya about adopting Zuul, but to no avail.  Their lease didn’t permit animals and Anya was adamant that Aden wasn’t quite old enough for the responsibility.  Lexa didn’t say anything about her plans, but she knew he wouldn’t be too crushed.  She couldn’t say for sure exactly when she’d decided she wanted the kitten, but she knew he belonged with her.  She hadn’t, however, thought through what it might mean for her relationship with Clarke—and _was_ it even a relationship?—until the day that Clarke gave her advance notice that Zuul would be eligible for adoption the following week.  Lexa thought she detected an undercurrent of sadness in Clarke’s demeanor and she realized that once she adopted him, she would no longer have an excuse to spend time with Clarke.  Clarke was strangely absent the day she finally tucked him in the carrier to bring him home.  She dragged her feet on the way out of the shelter, her emotions a roiling stew of anticipation and loss, excitement and regret. 

 “Lexa!  Wait!”  Clarke skidded to a halt next to her in the parking lot and held out a post-it.  “In case you have any problems,” she said breathlessly.  Lexa’s spirits soared as she took the slip of paper from Clarke.  She tried to keep her cool, relieved that she still had a chance with her.  She never expected she’d be calling so soon. 

  *********

Clarke surveyed the carnage of Lexa’s apartment in shock.  “Lexa…what the hell _happened_?  Where’s Zuul?”

Lexa scrambled to her feet and brushed the dust off her pants.  Her eyes were a little crazy.  Wisps of hair straggled out of her disheveled pony tail.  A streak of dirt smudged her cheek.  Clarke felt a sudden, wild urge to kiss it off.  She looked away quickly and stepped toward the open kitchen, pretending to take in the wreckage.  “Oh, be careful—there’s broken glass,” Lexa cautioned.  Her shoulders sagged.  “I don’t _know_ what happened,” she choked out, almost in tears.  “I left him alone for twenty minutes—just long enough to go pick up takeout.  And I came back to find him standing on the range hood…and _this_.”  She waved a hand helplessly at her apartment.  “I thought I just saw him under the armchair—oooh!  There he goes!”

A blur of black fur shot out from under the oversized sofa.  Lexa dove to grab him, but Zuul was too quick; he rounded the corner and galloped down the hall and through an open door.  Lexa swore and sat up, rubbing the rug burn on her elbow.  She flopped her head back against the sofa in despair.  “Christ, that’s my office.  I don’t even _know_ what he’s done in there.”

Despite Lexa’s defeated expression, Clarke couldn’t help it.  Her shoulders quaked as she tried to suppress her giggles, but it was all too much.  Laughter pealed from her throat.  Lexa looked up at her in hurt dismay, but Clarke just pointed at the mess around them and laughed even harder.  Lexa finally took in the totality of the scene and her own lips twitched.  She caught Clarke’s eye and finally broke up herself, tears eventually streaming down both their faces.  After the paroxysm passed, she wiped her cheeks and sighed.  “Shit, Clarke, how am I going to catch him?”

“Well, at this point, you don’t,” Clarke said matter-of-factly.  “He’s too cracked out, like those hoarder cats on Animal Planet that spazz out and they have to catch them in nets.”

Lexa sat up straight.  “You have a net?” she asked hopefully.

Clarke laughed.  “No.  We just need to let him calm down.  He probably just got freaked out because he was alone in an unfamiliar place.  It’s usually best to keep them in a more confined area for the first week or so, and let them adjust,” she explained.

Lexa hung her head.  “I didn’t know,” she mumbled dejectedly.  “I never should have thought I could get a pet, I’m going to be terrible at this.”

Clarke shushed her and took her hand to pull her up.  “It’s pretty common, and really not a big deal.  You’re going to be fine.  I mean, sure, he made a big mess, but it doesn’t look like anything major is broken.”  She held onto Lexa’s hand after she’d gotten to her feet, gently soothing her thumb over the back of her hand in reassurance.  Lexa gentled at her touch.  “I’ll help you clean up.”  Just then, Lexa’s stomach rumbled.  Clarke gave her an exasperated look.  “Did you eat?”

“No,” Lexa said sheepishly.  “I picked up Chinese, but I freaked out when I saw the mess.  It’s still in the bag.  I’ve got plenty,” she said hopefully.  “Join me?”

Clarke’s own stomach growled at the prospect.  “I think that’s a yes,” she said ruefully.  They dished up the food and cleared enough space on the coffee table so that they could collapse on the sofa and watch TV while they ate. 

Lexa pulled up Netflix.  “Any preferences?”

Clarke contemplated for a second while she chewed her food.  “How about something scary?”  Lexa made a face.  “C’mon, it’s almost Halloween,” she wheedled.  “You can hold my hand if you get scared,” she said, nudging Lexa lightly in the ribs and giving her a sly wink. 

Lexa blushed at the wink, but agreed.  She reasoned that if Clarke was serious about the offer, momentary fright would be a trivial price to pay.  They flipped to the original _Halloween_ and cut the lights.  Almost two hours later, the two women sprawled together on the sofa.  A wide-eyed Lexa clutched Clarke’s hand tightly.  When Michael Myers leaped out for the final time, she squealed and hid her face by burrowing into Clarke’s side.  Clarke’s body quivered with laughter, but she merely wrapped an arm around Lexa and idly stroked her fingers through her hair.  Lexa’s tense grip relaxed, but she continued to cuddle against Clarke, savoring her subtle fragrance and the warm cushion of her breast even after the scary moment passed and the movie drew to a close.  Clarke, for her part, seemed in no hurry to dislodge her.  She hummed contentedly and held Lexa close, paying little attention as Netflix’s autoplay kicked in with another show. 

Lexa’s body eventually grew stiff and she scooted into more of a sitting position, still tucked closely into Clarke’s side.  “I’m glad you came over,” she said softly, her head leaning on Clarke’s shoulder and their faces only inches apart. 

“I’m glad you called me,” Clarke replied, equally softly.  “You should know, I don’t give just anyone my number.”  Her eyes, glistening silver in the TV’s flickering light, dipped briefly to Lexa’s lips before inching back up.  “Do you want me to stay and help you clean up?”  She made no move to get up.

Lexa’s own gaze flicked to Clarke’s mouth and she unconsciously wet her lips.  “No—I mean, _yes_ …I don’t want to clean up,” she murmured, and leaned in to connect her lips with Clarke’s.  Clarke’s arm crept around Lexa’s back and held her steady as she kissed her back, a sweet slide of mouths and tongues, content for the moment with gentle touches and slow exploration. 

“I was afraid I’d never get the chance to do that when I saw you leave the shelter today,” Clarke confessed when they separated for air. 

Lexa leaned her forehead against Clarke’s.  “I didn’t realize how much I would miss you until I was leaving,” she whispered.  Her hand traced lightly over Clarke’s cheek.  She dropped another quick kiss on her lips, but pulled back abruptly as an involuntary yawn broke loose. 

Clarke smiled and pecked her forehead.  “You’ve exhausted.  I should go.”  She started to disentangle herself, but Lexa refused to release her hand. 

“Mmph.  Stay,” Lexa urged.  She yawned again.  “Not for _that_ …not that I don’t _want_ to….”  She shook her head, rapidly losing her train of thought.  “Just to sleep.  It’s late.”  She clumsily unfolded herself from the sofa and stood up, pulling Clarke up with her.  “I might need help in the morning, I still have to find Zuul.  Just stay.”

 Clarke was worn out herself and didn’t require much convincing, especially when Lexa’s forehead crinkled in a cute frowny face.  She let Lexa lead her down the hall to her bedroom.  Neither of them bothered undressing, they simply kicked off their socks, crawled under the covers, and burrowed into each other’s comforting warmth until sleep finally took them. 

  *********

Clarke woke more refreshed than she’d felt in ages.  Bright sunlight streamed in the window and a warm body pressed against hers.  The sensation disoriented her for a moment, until she lifted her head and saw the unmistakable scatter of honey-brown hair on the pillow beside hers.  She lifted herself onto one elbow to get a better view.  Lexa had fallen asleep on her back with a tiny smile.  Clarke’s arm draped across her middle and Clarke herself tucked into her side.  Fond warmth spread through Clarke’s chest as she watched Lexa sleep, her body rising and falling with deep, even breaths.  The blanket that covered Lexa suddenly shifted alarmingly as she looked on.  Clarke startled and reached out a tentative hand to investigate.  She bit back a giggle when she drew the blanket down to reveal a self-satisfied Zuul, curled contently on Lexa’s chest.  He blinked and gave Clarke a wise stare, and stretched out his tiny paw to claim Lexa just as he had weeks ago at the shelter.

“Good work, Zuul.  You’re right,” Clarke agreed.  “She’s a keeper.”  Like Zuul, she laid her head back down and snuggled into Lexa’s body once more. 

 


End file.
